


To Praxus

by entangledwood (Eryn)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eryn/pseuds/entangledwood
Summary: Drift isn't going to let Ratchet go to Praxus on his own. Only he isn't sure whatheis supposed to do once they get there...
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Prowl
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	To Praxus

**Author's Note:**

> Last year Transformers Earth Wars had a valentines event introducing the Prowl/Drift pairing and well...shit went down, plans were made, plans changed, and now it's up here
> 
> Based on Drift's and Ratchet's IDW backstory, but not canon compliant with anything

For Drift, getting to tag along to Praxus had already been an adventure and a half. He hadn’t left Iacon before, and Ratchet had tried to keep it that way. The medic had ordered Drift to stay, sent him on errands and finally had tried plain sneaking out at night. But neither was Drift an inattentive guard, nor was his racer alt only for show. Shortly outside of Iacon he had caught up to Ratchet. And really, going by the long-suffering sigh of hydraulics and the 'stay close then' Ratchet had commed him, Ratchet hadn’t meant to leave him behind anyway. Drift had hummed and playfully brushed his field against Ratchet's in a clear 'I would never' and off to Praxus they went.

***

Unfortunately, being in Praxus wasn’t half as entertaining as Drift had expected. Driving through the city had been interesting, but Ratchet had lead them straight to the big conference center, where they would be staying the rest of the decacycle. Only, Ratchet got to actually go into the lecture hall, while Drift was stuck outside standing guard… And trying not to draw the attention of the enforcers officially assigned to guard the medical congress. Because Drift wasn’t an official guard. He was a guest. Which left him in the weird limbo of not being the conjunx of one of the attendants - currently clustered at one of the refreshments tables - but not an official bodyguard either - all inside with their respective charges.

Instead he was just… Drift… aimlessly wandering from one end of the reception room to the other. You could almost say he was drifting. Drift couldn't help but chuckle at his own pun and briefly entertained the idea of getting some real drifting done. The hall certainly was big enough for it.

"Don't even think about it," a stern voice cut into his private musings.

"I wasn't thinking anything," Drift shot back reflexively, whirling around to come face to face with one of the enforcers. A white and black Praxian, some kind of pursuit vehicle alt, but not a racer per-se. Cute doorwings. But a scowl that made him look even more severe than his posture already did. Drift started to fidget, a reflex ingrained over centuries that he still hadn’t managed to break, but forced himself to straighten and match the enforcer's posture instead. He was here for legitimate reasons, and he wasn’t going to be made uncomfortable for existing.

"Well, I hope you were thinking something," the enforcer challenged.

"You just told me not to think," Drift returned defensively, somewhat annoyed now. Despite what other thought, he wasn't an idiot, or a troublemaker.

The enforcer for his part seemed equally annoyed. Not that his stuck up posture gave it away, but Drift knew the type. The guy could manipulate his field like an artist, could keep his frame completely still, and Drift would still spot the annoyance in his… well… his everything. Call it frame, call it aura. Drift knew how to read it. Even when the enforcer cycled a calming vent the annoyance didn't leave. And neither did the patronizing tilt to his aura.

"Look, kid. The conference lasts a decacycle, and I don't know who thought it was a good idea to bring you. But if you are bored enough to consider racing the halls on the first cycle, you really need to get out into the city and find something to entertain yourself. I'd hate to have to arrest you, but I will if I have to."

Drift glared and crossed his arms in front of his chest, mourning the fact that he'd had to relinquish his blasters at the door. Another thing official bodyguards had, unfairly, gotten to keep. "Look, officer," Drift returned derisively. "First off, I'm not a kid. Haven't been one for vorn. Second, I am perfectly capable of assessing a venue for the quality of racing it could offer without trying it out. And third, I'm not leaving Ratchet's safety in anyone's servo but my own."

"Ratchet? From Iacon?" The enforcer asked. His demeanor didn't change, but Drift could clearly see the change in the mech's aura. Still annoyed, but with a tint of curiosity.

"Yes, him. Chief Medic of the trauma ward at Iacon Central Hospital. And he'd be quite annoyed with you harrassing me." More for the trouble it would cause him, but the enforcer didn't need to know that. Only, given the amusement filling his field he likely knew already.

"I don't think it's possible for Ratchet not to be annoyed at a given situation," the enforcer chuckled. "Prowl," he introduced himself. "Lieutenant of the Praxian Enforcers."

"Drift. Of Iacon," Drift introduced himself, still weary but willing to give Prowl the benefit of the doubt. "You know Ratchet?"

"Yes, I was stationed in Iacon for a while and worked quite closely with Ratchet in a number of cases," Prowl assured him. "Where in Iacon do you live?"

"The Dead End," Drift challenged, and was surprised when Prowl didn't shudder or show any discomfort. Instead, understanding filled his aura.

"No wonder you insist on looking after Ratchet personally," Prowl agreed. "Does he still have his clinic there?"

"Yes. He's there whenever he's off shift at Central. I've done my best to improve the security, but it's difficult," he lamented.

"I told him he should at least upgrade the alarm system, but Ratchet never was interested in listening," Prowl commiserated.

***

'Well, this is interesting,' Ratchet mused as he stepped out of the lecture hall. Where previously Drift was a nervous awkward hanger on he was now deep in conversation. And with an enforcer no less. He brushed off Rung trying to get his attention and instead snuck closer, ready to step in in case there was an argument going on. Only Drift’s field seemed relaxed. Much like the enforcer’s. Surprisingly so, considering who was talking to each other there.

Then Ratchet recognized the enforcer as Prowl and barely held back a groan. No wonder they were both so happy to chat. Another step closer and Ratchet was sure that yep, they were definitely discussing security issues. Not his clinic specifically, but from their frame language Ratchet would think they had been at it for a while, and could circle back to his personal safety at any moment. Ratchet briefly wondered if he should go in and interrupt them. But that bit of self-preservation would likely backfire. The chance of Prowl leaving were slim. It was much more likely that he would draw their attention back to him and his clinic so they could gang up on him. Maybe it would be better to just...leave them to their bitching. Who knew, maybe they’d strike up a friendship. Would do both of them some good.


End file.
